Misery Will Sing
by UpTheIrons
Summary: Hermione is living a lie. Her life is a fabrication of others desires. When that fabrication falls apart, Hermione discovers that the mask may be better than to be who she really is. I promise to stop changing the title!
1. When a Person Turns to Wrong

**The Thin Line Between Love and Hate**

Hey everyone. Here's the beginning to my story called "The Thin Line Between Love and Hate". I hope you like it! If I don't update very often, just keep pestering me until I do :) The next one should be in about a week to two weeks (unless I throw out another chapter tonight. I'm debating on writing or playing Family Feud haha). This is a really different story than others I've read so I hope you guys aren't too weirded out. Hermione will not be like this throughout the entire story, but at one pooint this is how low her character gets. This story will be Draco/Hermione but I might make it Ron/Hermione before we get to the DHr. Just thinking about it! Any ideas, comments, whatever is appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP yadda, yadda, yadda

Chapter 1 - When a Person Turns to Wrong

_Sometimes, don't you just feel like you're not good enough? Like whatever you do is scrutinized to the point that there's no point in even trying anymore? That's how I'm starting to feel. Hopeless, lost, stupid. My life has gotten to the point where it's like I'm a spectator looking through a closed window at everything. I can no longer make my own choices, I can no longer hold my head high and say I'm proud to be who I am because I don't even know who that is anymore._

_Who am I? Such small words, with such a large meaning when put together. Most people would think that I would be able to answer: I am Hermione Granger, a 16 year old wicth that goes to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. My best friends are Ronald Weasley - a red headed, hot headed, lazy, quidditch loving dolt whom I love to bits and Harry Potter - a black haired, green eyed, easy going, quidditch loving Boy Who Lived whom I also love to bits. I am the top of my class, a prefect, and to some I am a "mudblood". The list here could go on forever._

_That is the typical definition of who all think is Hermione. Who am I though, you ask? I do not know, but I do know that: I am Hermione Devreaux, a 16 year old wicth that goes to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy. My best friends are Ron Weasley, a red headed, hot headed, lazy, quidditch loving dolt whom I love to bits and Harry Potter, a black haired, green eyed, easy going, quidditch loving Boy Who Lived whom I also love to bits. I am the top of my class, a prefect, and to some I am a "mudblood". I am not who everyone thinks I am. I have been adopted as the daughter of the most feared being in the wizarding world as my parents died serving him. I am lost in a world that either doesn't want me or wants me too much. My life is in shatters with nothing to put me back together. _

_Other than that, I know not who I am. I don't know why I'm here, why I'm loved, why I'm hated, why I sit for hours trying to find the answers to find out who I am. It's all become useless. My life is not important. I am not important. I am one voice yelling in the song of millions, a voice that no one can hear. My actions have become insignificant, I have done nothing and will do nothing. I am just a woman who is lost, cold and confused._

_I know that you're thinking that I am overly dramatic, and I guess to a certain extent I am. Do not judge though, until you have heard all that I have to say. I've lost everything and it's all because of one person, if you would even call him that. He does not deserve to be what he is and I swear, he will not live long enough to do all he plans. I will destroy him and I will destroy all those who follow him. I have no sympathy for their families, their sons, their daughters, their wives and husbands. They killed my parents. They killed them and left a daughter. They killed my mum, my dad. They killed a husband and a wife. I will kill theirs. They deserve nothing less. I deserve nothing more. _

_Here's my story. Don't judge until you've read it all. Remember, you don't know me. _


	2. Is it a Want to Be, Belong?

**The Thin Line Between Love and Hate**  
Chapter 2: Is it a Want to Be, Belong?

**A/N: Thanks to my one reviewer. Without you I may not have continued with writing this. I'm hoping to get some more on this chapter... please? Hehe**

**Disclaimer: HP is not mine though it would be so effing awesome if it was. **

* * *

Harry awoke with a sudden jolt as his eyes searched frantically around his room in fear… for what? He did not know. He grabbed his scar, expecting it to hurt but he felt no pain come. As his breathing became slower and less heavy, Harry reviewed what he could remember from his dream:

* * *

_He and Hermione were sitting by the lake at Hogwarts talking about whatever came to their minds first. Hermione laughed at something he just said and had fallen backwards so she was lying on her back looking up at the sky._

"_Harry, don't you think that cloud looks sort of like an owl?" Hermione asked, pointing directly above her._

_Harry fell on his back to see what Hermione was pointing at and said with a smile, "Yeah, sort of. Looks more like some sort of demented house elf; Dobby wearing a hat, maybe."_

_Hermione stole a quick look over at Harry, wondering If he had subliminally been hinting at something or other. When she saw no look of contempt in his eyes, she looked back up at the sky, "That cloud looks like Snape" she laughed, pointing up to a menacing looking cloud to her right._

"_And that one" Harry smiled, "Looks sort of like… I don't know… Voldemort" Dream Harry could not figure out why he had said that the cloud looked like the Dark Lord, but Real Harry guessed that it was he who had something to do with the dream._

_Dream Harry looked over at Hermione to see her reaction to what he had said but neither Harry, Dream or Real, had ever imagined Hermione's reaction._

_Her face immediately clouded over, her smile turned into a frown, her eyes became dull and almost lifeless, and everything Harry had ever loved about hi best friend was gone. Not only did Hermione change into someone Harry did not know, the sky quickly clouded over with dark and dreadful thunder clouds. Rain started pouring down with loud claps of thunder sounding in the distance. As soon as the rain hit the Unknown Hermione, she started melting (_"sort of like the wicked witch in 'The Wizard of Oz'" _real Harry thought), and just like that witch, the Unknown Hermione screamed in a loud, high pitched, very un-Hermione like voice, "I'm meeeeelting!"_

_The Unknown Hermione glared as Harry with true menace in her eyes and Dream Harry could feel the fear coursing through his body and across his face. The moment there was nothing left of what was Hermione, his best friend with the bushy brown hair and know-it-all ways, Harry awoke._

_

* * *

_

Harry could not fathom the meaning of the dream but he did know that the fear he felt as the Unknown Hermione glared at him was real. He was terrified.

Knowing that he would not be able to fall asleep, Harry decided to write to Hermione and make sure she was okay and not melted like a popsicle on a hot summer day.

"Dear Hermione" Harry wrote, choosing his words carefully. "I hope you're well, I know I haven't written to either your or Ron so far this summer, but I know you'll understand that I've needed some time to think about a lot of stuff.

"I really hope that you've had an okay summer so far, mine could be better as you can imagine. The Dursley's have left me alone for the most part of the time I've been back from Hogwarts. I think Dumbledore's talked to them before I came because the Dursley's have been… well, very un-Dursley like."

Harry inspected his letter so far, looking to see if he had given anything away. Deciding that there was nothing **to** give away, Harry started to continue the letter but was confused about how to a) introduce his odd dream and b) put it in some sort of code (just in case). After debating whether the dream was even important or not, Harry just decided to leave the particulars (Voldemort) out and make it out to be a funny dream:

"I have just woken up from the weirdest dream I think I've ever had; Weird in a funny – 'haha' sort of way. You and I were watching the clouds when it suddenly started pouring down rain. As soon as the rain touched you, you started screaming "I'm meeelting!" and you became a puddle of melted Hermione. It was definitely very odd and I'm sure you'll find it humorous."

Quite pleased with what he wrote and sure he hadn't given any information about important matters, Harry concluded his letter:

"I'm missing you and Ron so I hope to see you soon. Make sure to tell Ron that I say 'hi' and that I'll see him soon. Harry"

Harry sealed the letter to his friend with a sigh and he knew that Hermione would know something was up. He sounded way too cheerful for someone whose godfather had just died; Hermione was a bright girl, she would catch this and be concerned. Maybe she would even catch the oddness of the dream, Harry didn't know.

After some gentle prodding, coaxing with some treats and a promise of a nice long rest, Hedwig finally awoke and very irritably took the letter from Harry. He watched his snowy white owl fly out the window into the dark night with a melancholy look on his face.

There were no stars, Harry noticed as he stared out his window as he gazed into the darkness. This night was no different than any other of his sleepless nights, save for the dream; it was dark, silent, depressing and lonely. Though Harry knew that he always had Hermione and Ron to count, that feeling was slightly off-putting after the death of his Godfather. The grief that Harry felt was tremoundous even though he would not admit it to himself that he would never see Sirius again.

On nights like these, countless questions ran through Harry's mind:  
Why did Sirius have to die?  
Why couldn't Voldemort just have died so I wouldn't be in this situation and I'd be normal like everyone else?  
Why me?

Many would think that the most common and disturbing question in Harry's mind would be "why me?" but it wasn't. There was one that was worse. A question upon which he constantly dwelled on and feared the most:  
"Why am I alone?"

* * *

Hermione could not sleep. Plain and simple. Her body was tired, but her mind insisted that she stay up until is decided that it wanted some rest. Unfortunatly for Hermione, this meant that she was bored, and Hermione Granger never got bored. Her eyes were to tired to stay open to read a book but when she closed them, they eventually opened again. Her arms felt like lead, so heavy that she didn't want to even try lifting them to write but when she tried to rest, her ams felt like moving. That night, there was no happy medium for Hermione Granger and she figured that there was no way she would fall asleep. 

As her last resort, Hermione slowly walked over to the window, sat down on the window seat and looked at the night sky. There were no stars, she noticed and its was black as black can be. At the moment, the sky was a mirror image of her feelings. Though Sirius wasn't her godfather, he was her friend so it hurt to lose him. What hurt more though, was knowing that Harry was out there somewhere in pain because of his death. Sirius was one of the last real threads that Harry had of his parent's lives and now that thread was lost. There was only one more left and Hermione just knew that if Harry lost Lupin, there would be nothing that could bring Harry back.

Hermione sighed and pressed her forehead against the cold glass. Slowly, as her eyes began to close, terrible pain shot through her entire body. Her chocolate eyes quickly opened at the pain seared through her arms, back then legs. Trying not to scream out, she bit her lips until she felt blood but that just made her bite harder. Tears welled up in her eyes and Hermione couldn't move. She was frozen to her seat in complete and utter pain and any sort of movement whatsoever felt like thousands of tiny knives piercing her skin.

Then, as suddenly as the pain began, it stopped. With a jolt, she turned her head and looked around her room in fear... for what? She did not know. Hermione remembered nothing but the pain, not what caused it, not why the blood was running from her lip, not even why she was sitting on her window seat.

Pressing her forehead against the window once again, the chilling cold soothed Hermione's aching mind. Closing her eyes and beginning to fall asleep, she started dreaming of nothing of importance, really. It was one of the dreams where the dreamer never remembers it after the awake.

There was a sudden tapping on the window which woke a very unhappy Hermione from her rest. She saw Hedwig and moved slowly to open the window, afraid that the pain would begin again. Wondering why Harry would send her a letter so late at night, Hermione took it from the Hedwig's leg as she flew onto Hermione's bed.

Hermione quickly opened the letter, knowing that it would be something important and scanned through it. Her heart dropped when she read the words:

_"Dear Hermione,  
I hope you're well, I know I haven't written to either your or Ron so far this summer, but I know you'll understand that I've needed some time to think about a lot of stuff.  
I really hope that you've had an okay summer so far, mine could be better as you can imagine. The Dursley's have left me alone for the most part of the time I've been back from Hogwarts. I think Dumbledore's talked to them before I came because the Dursley's have been… well, very un-Dursley like.  
I have just woken up from the weirdest dream I think I've ever had; Weird in a funny – 'haha' sort of way. You and I were watching the clouds when it suddenly started pouring down rain. As soon as the rain touched you, you started screaming "I'm meeelting!" and you became a puddle of melted Hermione. It was definitely very odd and I'm sure you'll find it humorous.  
I'm missing you and Ron so I hope to see you soon. Make sure to tell Ron that I say 'hi' and that I'll see him soon.  
Harry"_

Something was wrong. Hermione felt it in her bones. Harry's letter was too cheerful and not like Harry at all. His dream about her was important, she knew, and she knew that he knew it too. Something was very, very wrong. Was this why she had hurt? Was the dream the reason for the unbearable pain?

A look of extreme worry covered Hermione's face as she grabbed a small piece of paper and wrote seven small words:

_You need to get out of there._

* * *

**A/N: Oooo sort of a cliffhanger... hope you like! Please, please, please review! You don't really understand how much reviews mean until you write a fic lol! **  



	3. Part of things at any Cost

**Ha! I actually finished this chapter last weekend when I was up at my cottage but I left on tuesday for a 5-day long canoe trip up in Algonquin Park in Ontario. Really fun stuff! Anyway, I don't have the notebook that I originally wrote this chapter in here, so I'm going by memory and hopefully I can make it better than what I wrote (though I was quite proud of it!). **

**Thanks to:  
Kortney - Yay! My favouritest reviewer so far! I loved the dream too... I was sitting in the hallway of school just thinking and being bored when I came up with it. I like warped things. They make me happy. There aren't many answers in this chapter, only more questions so you'll have to wait to find out about Hermione's pain! Mwahaha!  
Flukey - Sporks are scary... especially purple ones looks scared. I'm glad that you like it enough to threaten me! Popcicles are good... mmmm popcicle.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HP, yada yada yada**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 3 - Part of Things at Any Cost

Hermione walked up Privet Drive looking at all of the houses. They were all relatively the same: same front lawns, same cars in the drive ways, and same brick exterior. She could imagine that they were the same in many other ways as well: same drab interior, same boring backyards, same "perfect" children, same hard working adults, everything seemed to be perfectly in sync on Privet Drive. Except for one thing. Behind the perfect exterior of house number four, there was an "imperfection". A boy with glasses and an odd shaped scar on his forehead with amazing abilities. Hermione's best friend, Harry Potter.

Yes, she had come to get Harry out of Privet Drive and away from the Dursleys' to somewhere safe, away from everything. With a clipboard in hand and a professional look on her face, Hermione walked up to the door of Number Four Privet Drive with her head held high and hopes that her plan would work floating around in her head.

_Flashback:  
"Mom, I need a ride to Surrey tomorrow. I'm going to pick up Harry and then we're going to go to Ron's. I'll be there for the rest of the summer." Hermione told her mother that morning._

_Without looking up from her paperwork, Mrs. Granger let out a small sigh and said, "Your father will be leaving for work any minute now. If you're quick you'll catch him. Make sure to owl me to tell me your safe. Now if you don't mind, I need to get this paperwork done."_

"_Thanks mum" Hermione said as she walked over to her mother to give her a hug. She leaned over and hugged her but got nothing in return. Turning and shrugging, Hermione put her head down in sorrow as she left the room to pick up her bags of clothes and necessities and find her father.  
End flashback_

Before Hermione even got to the front step of the house, Vernon Dursley had opened the door and stuck his head out saying, "We don't want any! Get lost!".

Hermione gave a small smile at Vernon as he started closing the door and said sweetly, "Mr. Dursley, I presume? My name is Lisa Longbottom and I am from the board if Education. I see here," she looked down at her clipboard, "that you have two boys in your household and I would like to survey them both on the quality of their school. Would you mind if I stepped in?"

Vernon Dursley examined her, wondering if she was authentic or not as he let her walk through his door. "Lisa,"

"Miss Longbottom, if you will."

"Fine then _Miss Longbottom,_" Vernon spit, "You don't look very old. Are you sure that you're qualified to do this survey?"

Hermione pulled her face into an expression of that of extreme offence. "How dare you question my integrity, Mr. Dursley! I'm just doing my job and you have no right to question that or my age. Now, I would like to speak to…" Hermione looked down at her clipboard again, "Dudley. I'm assuming that's your son then?"

"Yes, yes, that's him." replied Vernon, flustered. He turned towards a room to his left where the sound of a loud television show was heard, "DUDLEY! THERE'S SOMEONE HERE TO TALK TO YOU!" He then turned back to "Lisa", "You can sit down at the kitchen table, Miss Longbottom."

"Excuse me, sir. It is required that the subject and I are alone in a room as to get maximum results without outside influence. Is there anywhere else that Dudley and I could possibly go?"

It was then that Dudley dragged his weight into the room looking extremely irritated. "Why did you call me? I was in the middle of watching… hey!" He exclaimed, looking over at Hermione, "Who're you?"

"Dudley," Vernon introduced, "This is Miss Longbottom. You are going to show her up to your room and she's going to ask you some questions about your school." When neither Dudley nor Hermione moved, he added, "Go on!"

Dudley gave Hermione a look that said that he liked what he saw as he turned and led her down the hall and up the stairs. Hermione shifted uncomfortably with the look and followed him professionally.

When Dudley opened the door to his room, Hermione tried not to let disgust cross her face. There was not one inch of floor showing as there were clothes thrown in every direction, draped over chairs, partly folded on the floor, and even a pair of pants stuck on Dudley's lamp. There was an empty bag of chips sitting beside Dudley's bed and something rotting in the corner beside his window. The television was on with static crossing the screen, all of his movies were piled in front of the television. The room smelled like a mixture of body odor and some sort of rotting food. Hermione had to force herself to not gag in revulsion.

Hermione closed the door behind her and brushed some clothes away from the floor with her foot so she would have enough room to at least stand.

As soon as the door was closed, Hermione "tut tut"ed almost reminiscent of Umbridge and started her first question: "So Dudley, where do you go to school?"

Dudley sat on his bed and beckoned Hermione closer to him. Not knowing what to do, Hermione just looked around the room uncomfortably and repeated, "What school do you go to?"

"What does it matter? School is complete shit. Waste of my time." Was Dudley's answer.

"Errrr well, I still need to do this questionnaire. It's my job. Now where do you go to school?"

A flash of anger crossed Dudley's pudgy face and got up from the bed. He crossed the room and pinned Hermione against the wall.

"Never ever tell me what to do." He said menacingly.

"Don't talk to me like that. You have no right to talk to me like that." Hermione said with fear in her voice. Though mildly scared, Hermione knew that her plan was going the way she wanted. She just had to…

Dudley pushed Hermione hard against the wall and put his face up to hers, so close that she could feel his breath as he said "This is my room. You follow my rules." He then proceeded to lean in even closer and kiss Hermione roughly on the lips.

This was what Hermione had wanted (well not _wanted_ but needed for her plan to work properly) and she pushed him away with all her might. He was much to heavy for her to push, Dudley had to outweigh her by at least 200 pounds so Hermione bit his lip. Hard.

Dudley let out a loud yelp as he stumbled back and fell onto his bed holding his sore lip,

There were loud poundings on the stairs as Vernon Dursley ran up the stairs to see if his son was hurt. He opened the door to see "Lisa" with her arms wrapped around herself standing in her little open spot on the floor and his precious son wailing in pain on his bed.

"WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY SON?" was the first thing he yelled.

Dudley's fat finger pointed accusingly at Hermione "She bit me!"

Before Vernon could say anything, Hermione added in "Only because the bloody idiot tried to molest me!"

"You little tramp! Did you even get any of your survey, if there even was one, done?" Vernon said menacingly.

"How dare you continue to undermine me! I find that incredibly insulting! Of course I am attempting to do a survey but you two seem to be completely daft and don't care what happens to the education system! Maybe the other boy in this house, Harry Potter – not your son I assume – will be more willing to cooperate with me for such a cause."

Hermione turned on her heels, not caring whether or not Vernon and Dudley approved of her little speech, and walked down the hall to the only room with the door closed. She knocked and waited for Harry to answer. When there was no answer, Hermione knocked again a bit harder. Again, there was no answer. Not bothering to knock again because Vernon was standing in the doorway of Dudley's room glaring at her, she just opened the door and let herself in.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Harry's room. It was relatively tidy, but not too tidy. There were clothes strewn in a pile on the floor but not all over the place like those of Dudley's. There was no rotting food, no half finished food, and the room in entirety smelled normal. The bed was unmade, but that was because there was a sleeping Harry lying on it wearing his clothes.

The door closed itself softly as Hermione walked into the room and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed to attempt to wake him. She first shook his leg and spoke his name lightly with no response. She tried again, shaking him harder and calling his name louder.

Harry turned over and huddled himself into a ball muttering about something or other as Hermione heard Vernon walk down the hall towards the room. He stopped at the door and after listening for a moment or two, he said loudly, "I don't hear any surveying sounds, missy!"

At this, Harry groggily opened his emerald blue eyes and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before realizing he wasn't alone. It took him a minute or two before he grabbed his glasses off his bedside table (Harry obviously didn't care that anyone was in his room at that particular moment) and set them on his face. He saw Hermione and his face lit up with surprise as Vernon yelled from outside the door.

"Miss Longbottom! What are you doing in there? I don't hear you asking questions!"

Hermione yelled back "Sorry Mr Dursley, Harry was just thinking of an answer to one of my questions."

Realizing that Hermione was here to get him out of Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry knew that he had to be quiet and go along with whatever his friend had planned. He asked in a whisper, "What are you doing here?"

"So Mr. Potter," Hermione said loudly enough for Vernon to hear, "what school do you attend?" Then whispering to Harry she said "I'm getting you out of here. Just follow along and act like you're being surveyed."

Outside of the room, floorboards squeaked as Vernon shuffled to hear better.

"I go to St. Brutus's. Good school it is." Harry answered the survey question. He then added quietly, "So how do we get out?"

Still standing outside of the door, Vernon Dursley gave a grunt of approval at Harry's answer and Hermione gave him a rude look through the door.

"What forms of punishment do they use there?" Was then next question and then "Err well, I've figured out a way that Dursley will kick us both out of the house which is what we want, right?" Hermione whispered and continued before Harry could agree: "well, simply putting it, you'll have to, umm, kiss me."

"WHAT!"

"Shhh Harry!" Hermione said looking at the door as to make sure that an angry Vernon Dursley didn't open it. "Answer the question!"

In a normal but shaky voice, Harry then said "Err whips, chains, beatings, you know. The usual." Then he asked in a low voice with a disgusted look on his face, "Why do I have to do that?"

"Oh now that's some good punishment. How does it effect you?" then "I already told you Harry, we need to get kicked out."

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

"Harry shush! You're being loud. Start throwing stuff in your trunk as we talk but be as quiet as possible. Vernon's still right outside and we cannot be caught until the opportune moment reveals itself."

Harry nodded as he bent down to pick up some of the clothes off of his floor and threw them into his open trunk on top of his Hogwarts books. "The punishment doesn't really affect me. I get beatings so often that I don't even realize it anymore."

Again, Vernon sounded pleased.

As clothes, books, and small possessions filled up the trunk, Hermione continued asking Harry questions until the room became almost spotless and the trunk was completely filled to the brim. "How do you find the learning environment?" was the last intellectual question that was asked and from then on the questions ranged from "How thick is the average textbook?" to "Is the toilet paper single or double quilted?"

Harry gave answers such as "The average textbook is totally mutilated. You can't tell how big they are because they look like they've been eaten by a giant elephant" and "The toilet paper seems to be half quilted. No comfort whatsoever."

When Hermione realized that nothing else could be thrown into the trunk and that it was time to do what must be done, she went quiet and looked around Harry's room awkwardly. Hermione decided to get a hold of herself as she walked closer to Harry who was standing motionless in the middle of his room. As she stood in front of him, she realized her height, or lack thereof, since she was at least a head shorter than he. Harry gulped as he leaned his head downwards and Hermione leaned hers upwards. As their lips met, Vernon Dursley snorted at the lack of sound coming from the room and pushed open the door. What he saw he wasn't to pleased with…

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT! THOSE WEREN'T SURVEYING SOUNDS! BOTH OF YOU, GET OUT NOW. OUT OF MY HOUSE! POTTER, YOUR AUNT AND I TOOK YOU IN AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US? AND _LISA_ HOW DARE YOU NOT KISS MY DUDYKINS BUT KISS THIS… THIS… BOY. YOU BOTH DISGUST ME, NOW GET OUT! YOU'RE NOT MOVING!"

When Vernon started yelling, both Hermione and Harry turned to face him and looked upon him with faces of amused bewilderment. When Dursley got to the "HOW DARE YOU NOT KISS MY DUDYKINS" part of his little speech, Harry's legs started functioning again so he grabbed his trunk and motioned to Hermione to follow him. The two friend were yelled at all the way out the door and when they finally exited Number Four Privet Drive, the door was slammed but the sound of Vernon Dursley's voice could still be heard; "AND NEVER COME BACK!" was heard prominently.

Side by side Harry and Hermione walked down Privet Drive to the nearest park. Hermione sat down on a swing and Harry put down his trunk before he sat beside her on another.

"Seeing his face Hermione, that was bloody brilliant!" Harry laughed as he swung back and forth.

"Thank you Harry. I'm glad the plan worked. I would have just died if it hadn't." Hermione laughed with him.

After laughing for a bit at Vernon's obvious rage, the laughed suddenly ceased and Hermione looked down as Harry looked up at the sky at the passing clouds.

"So how did you come up with a plan like that?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. "It wasn't probably the best plan, but it worked well I think."

"Last night I got your letter and was a bit worried. It sounded too happy and very unlike you, considering what you must be going through emotionally, so I decided to come for a visit."

"And while you were at it you though that you would piss Uncle Vernon and Dudley off? Aunt Petunia's not going to be very happy either."

"Where is she, by the way?" asked Hermione.

"Some lawn care thing. Continue with your story though."

"Well, the dream just worried me. That's all."

"It was nothing, I shouldn't have owled you." Harry said sadly.

"Oh shut it Harry. Of course you should have. Anyway, I thought of all the possible ways that Mr. Dursley would throw us out and I figured the best way would be for you to get something that Dudley wanted – don't look at me like that – I posed as a member of some board of education taking a survey. To get me alone with Dudley so he would try something, I said that the survey needed to be done in private as to not have any outside influences. As I had thought, as soon as we got to his room, Dudley tried something." Hermione finished.

Harry made an odd sort of sound as his face contorted into a look of either pity or disgust but Hermione ignored it.

"Anyway, I pushed him, Vernon got mad and sent me to survey you. Needless to say, he was insulted that I refused Dudley so when he saw us…"

"He got pissed." Harry concluded.

"Don't swear Harry," said Hermione out of habit.

"Whatever. Good plan, though I didn't need you to come and 'save' me Hermione. Dumbledore would have come to get me eventually," Harry glared at his friend.

"Don't get mad at me for something you don't understand, Harry. I was trying to help and maybe one day you'll understand" Hermione said.

"I don't understand? DON'T UNDERSTAND! I can understand it better than you think Hermione. I don't need help with dealing with Sirius or anything like that! You should have just left me alone," Harry began to yell as he got off the swing and started to walk away.

"Don't you walk away from me! You think this is about Sirius? This has absolutely NOTHING to do with Sirius, the order or that stupid prophecy!" Hermione yelled back.

Harry turned back towards Hermione as he heard the word 'prophecy', "The prophecy? Who told you about that?" Harry asked menacingly.

"I just know; it doesn't matter how I know. That's not important right now!"

"Then what IS important, Hermione? Of course it's bloody well important!"

Hermione hung her head down in defeat as she slowly said, "Don't swear, Harry."

"Wait, don't you dare clam up. Why? How? If this isn't about the prophecy or Voldemort or anything like that, why did you mention it?" Harry asked.

A leaf fell from a tree near Hermione and she bent over to pick it up, "I never said it wasn't about Voldemort. I'll tell you one day when the answers come more easily. I know you have problems Harry. I know you have a lot on your mind but don't you even think for a second that you're the only one." Hermione waved a finger in Harry's face as to make herself clear, "Never forget that." She then turned her back and started walking towards the train station with Harry walking and muttering behind her.

"Like hell I don't understand."

"Just shut up Harry."

* * *

**A/N: 8 pages… I'm so proud of myself! I hope you guys liked this chapter; sorry I couldn't get it up sooner! Please review!**

**Dani**


	4. The Sky Cries

**New A/N: I changed the end of this chapter… the other ending blowed.**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've been busy… I've been studying for exams (my frist one is Chemistry tomorrow. Kill me, please /sarcasm/). I took a break to write this, so I hope it's not too bad! It's my first Draco-esque chapter! **

**Thanks again to Kortney! You rock my socks… nope sorry, no Harry/Hermione-ness! I have lots up me sleeve… I think… I hope. Haha!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own HP… though in 24 days, 4 minutes and 38 seconds (I love the mugglenet countdown thing!) I'll own HBP… YAY! very excited**

The Sky Cries

He called the mansion not a house but a tomb. Everything seemed to either be dead or grasping onto the end of its life. Nothing showed anything that could be seen as happy or joyful, everything was dark, cold and unwelcoming to one who didn't or couldn't understand. That was how the manor was liked though. Its residents weren't happy or joyful, they were cold and unwelcoming. The Malfoy Manor thoroughly portrayed that dark persona.

Draco Malfoy's cold grey eyes were looking into nothingness, unfocused as his father talked to him – about what? Draco didn't know. He didn't know why Lucius couldn't see that he wasn't paying any attention to him whatsoever, but at the moment, Draco didn't care. The grey eyes searched around the room – the fire; the bookshelf covered with thousands of books about various dark wizards, spells and anything else that had to do with the dark arts; his father's desk filled with piles of seemingly important parchment; and the window.

Draco knew what freedom he had was outside of that window. Out there he didn't have to listen to his father's mindless blabbering or follow the orders of a psychopathic dark lord. Out there he could be alone with his thoughts without being annoyed by his father, mother or his two idiotic goons. When he was outside, Draco realized that he was totally alone – just as he wanted.

"Draco? Did you hear me? Out master told me that -"

"The girl is interfering again. I heard you father." Draco responded blandly. At the moment, he couldn't care less about the Dark Lord's concerns. They weren't his, so why should he?

"Don't be disrespectful, boy. It was your decision to become our Lord's follower so you will listen to what he has to say." Lucius said to Draco bitterly.

"I will do as I wish. You've been sitting here talking for the past hour saying that there 'was something of grave importance' that I must hear and this is all you come out with? That the girl is interfering with the Dark Lord's plans? That's it? Would you like to elaborate for me?"

A look of shock and then fury passed over Lucius' face as he listened to his son. "You disrespectful son of a bitch! If you had been listening, you would have heard what she did. She disobeyed direct orders from our Lord and then she shows up and laughs in his face! No one insults my Lord like that."

"She has every right to laugh," Draco looked at his father menacingly, "Voldemort can't do anything to her and she knows it. Knowing the girl, she'll use that against him. It's all sort of funny, really…"

"So are you defending her now? I thought -"

"You think right, I hate the girl, but she can't be destroyed and it's as simple as that. It's no use arguing against a fact, father. One simply never wins against something that's already been proven. She'll pay for it eventually, one way or another. She can't hide behind that excuse forever," Draco smirked.

"Good point, boy. That's all I wished to see you for. You may leave my presence." Lucius sat down at his desk, shuffled some parchment around and waved his hand nonchalantly at his son who was already on his way out of the room.

The clatter of heavy footsteps was heard as Draco took long strides down one of the many extensive halls at the Malfoy Manor. The Malfoy family paintings watched him closely as he walked with their noses in the air. He was the one Malfoy boy that they had seemed to take a dislike to.

Sixteen year old Draco Malfoy finally reached huge doors that led to the gardens of the Manor. Outside was dark and he could hear thunder in the distance but that made no difference. Draco opened the doors and walked out of them into the fresh air. He noticed that there were no stars out and the crescent moon was barely visible behind a thick layer of storm clouds.

He walked around the multiple gardens that his mother took so much pride, noticing the different colours. Sadly, the gardens were the only part of the Malfoy Manor that had colour – not that Draco mattered, colour implied emotion and emotion implied weakness – but he had to admit that the flowers were beautiful. For some reason, his mother had a knack for growing plants and it was one thing that she did for fun.

A raindrop fell, and then another, and then another. Suddenly, the sky opened up and a torrent of rain fell down. Thunder clashed and lightening flashed as Draco continued walking through his mother's life. He suddenly turned down a path that was rarely used, for it led to a dark forest near the end of the property. No one ever went there, for what reason Draco didn't know, but he was taught at a young age never to go in there, and frankly he never had.

"The sky is crying."

Draco turned at the sound of a voice he didn't recognized, "What?"

"The sky is crying."

He turned again to see if he could catch a glimpse of who said that, but again there was nothing, "Who are you?" Fury began to show on the boy's face as no one responded.

"The sky is crying," Said the voice again, but much quieter this time, in almost a whisper.

"ANSWER ME DAMMIT!" Draco yelled.

Just like before there was no reply to Draco's question. He stood still for what seemed like forever as rain pelted down on him, soaking his clothing. Still there was nothing, so he began to walk back towards his Manor.

Freezing cold rain dripped down Draco's face but he did nothing to stop it. He enjoyed the rain. There was something about it that made him feel… he didn't know how it made him feel, but it made him stronger. It gave him the ability to sneer, to frown and to scowl. The raindrops made Draco feel as if there was something that was just as cold as he was, and just as merciless.

"You're going to catch a cold, my son," an elegant female voice said. Draco realized that he had stopped walking and was just standing in the middle of the gardens looking up at the sky.

"I'll be fine, mother." Draco responded as Narcissa Malfoy walked over to her son. Her hair and clothing were as soaked as his, implying that she had been outside just as long.

"I know that you enjoy the rain, but your father needs you to be in perfect health."

"My father can go screw himself."

"You will not disobey your father." Narcissa said to her son in a monotone voice.

"I will not obey him. I will do as I wish, I am not him, nor do I want to be. I'm stronger, I'm smarter, and I'm not a follower as he is. I will not obey someone like him who only obeys another." Draco sneered at his mother.

"Do not try to be different Draco, because you are so much the same as he is. You will become him."

Draco gave his mother an evil look as he started walking back towards the manor. She walked a little bit slower behind him and asked quietly, "Then who do you want to be and where do you want to go?"

The tall blonde haired boy stopped suddenly in his tracks and turned to face his mother, "I want to be powerful. I want people to bow down to me. I want to go… I don't know where I want to go. I know who I want to be though, and that's enough."

"That's what your father wanted, Draco. Does he have it though? No he doesn't. He never figured out where he wanted to go either, so figure that out and maybe you'll be different," Was Narcissa's reply.

"I'm already different than he is, mother." Draco sneered. He greatly disliked the idea of being like his father, constantly following someone else's orders, kissing someone else's ass.

"No Draco. That's what you're missing my son, perspective. You can't keep saying you're different when you're not; don't lie to yourself. Admit that you are the same as he and then you'll realize what you need to do to be different. I want my son to grow up to be strong, powerful, and perceptive, something his father never was or will be. Grow up Draco, that's what you need." Narcissa lowered her blond head as she walked past a confused Draco back towards the manor. She suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked back into her son's cold, grey eyes and said quietly, "Don't look so lost, my son. Forget that I ever said anything and come inside. It's freezing out here and you'll catch cold."

Draco shook his head partly to clear it and partly to stop the water dripping from his hair. He walked in long strides beside Narcissa and she had to jog to keep up with him. Draco made sure he got to the manor first and when he did, he quickly opened the door and then slammed it in his mother's face. A perfectly normal day in the Malfoy Manor.

**A/N: Okay, so I revised the end of this chapter because it was absolutely HORRENDOUS. What the hell was I thinking? Anyway, I think it's better and I hope you all like it. I'm starting on the next chapter right after I replace the old chapter…**

**8 days until HBP! 7 until Charlie and the Chocolate Factory swoon Johnny Depp… yummy. 27 days until I go to an Iron Maiden concert! WOOO! My calendar is full of stuff!**


End file.
